I just got home from the studio. Our last day. We cut a total of 7 songs. Are we happy about it? No! We're all pretty damn grumpy. It's too damn late and we were working hard all day and it's draining to play songs over and over and try to pour as much energy in as you can. Because of that, I am numb now. To pretty much everything. BRian accidentally dropped a flat steel pedalboard on my hand, which was on a truckbed, and I only said "ow" because I saw it happen and it looked like it might have hurt. If I were in the mood for being insensitive, I'd go out and hurt someone's feelings, because I wouldn't feel bad about it right now, but I wouldn't get much out of it for the same reason. I just couldn't care less about anything.

Tomorrow I have to wake up and fly to Sunnyvale for work. I can't find a hotel there, still. Maybe I will cancel my flight if I can't find a room, and they would understand, maybe.

hope hope hope hope

While discussing what food to bring with Kris, I went on a sort of baloney tangent. Kris brought lots of baloney, white bread, and cheese singles. Far in the past, Dave Mustaine complained about the different labels for types of metal: Death Metal, Thrash Metal, Funk Metal, he mockingly said "Hey man, is that baloney metal? cooool." So we decided that one good thing to tell people when they ask what kind of music we play would be "baloney metal". Now we're eating baloney in the studio while recording, so we feel a little justified in claiming that title.

Brian has to blow hot air into his EmaxII with a hair dryer to get it to boot up. We took the hairdryer and used it to melt the cheese on the baloney/cheese sandwiches. I have a picture of Brian doing this.